The Madness Within 2
by Bal187
Summary: Second Chapter of my story, I dont own the characters, blah blah. Etc. Etc.


**The Madness Within**

I remained in the hospital for a few days. The Healers insisted on keeping me there as long as possible, to make sure that I was all right. Except for this horrible disease swimming inside my body. Through some of what Professor Dumbledore had told me, and what the Healers had continually been telling me for the last week, I had come to accept that I would be a werewolf all my life. No cure had been found yet, and I knew that I shouldn't keep my hopes up for a cure. The last I could do was live my life to the fullest, and make sure that I never hurt anyone at the same time. My mother and father had been by frequently, telling me that I would be all right, comforting me. I was glad to see that both of them had stopped crying, and had put on what looked like genuine smiles on their faces. This helped me out a little bit. I read the _Daily Prophet_ while lying in the hospital bed, only moving when I had to stretch my legs or the nurses needed to change the sheets. Unlike other children my age, I read the newspaper regularly, and unlike many wizards much older than me, I also read as much Muggle news as I could. I was, after all, a part of that world, as well as the wizarding world. The _Daily Prophet _was still going on about the continuing rise in the practice of Dark Arts, and indeed many wizards preferred to become anarchists and perform the Dark Arts rather than live under the law of the Ministry of Magic. One in particular, a man who fashioned himself as Lord Voldemort. He was the ringleader of these freaks. The world called these people 'Dark Wizards', but I just saw them as retarded people, whose minds were shot. Who in their right mind would want to perform such horrible curses on folk like these people did? About ninety percent of these wizards fell to the dark because they believed that they were superior to others, due to the purity of their blood. I had always found this theory to be codswallop. Didn't anyone learn from history? Even the Muggles, they had the exact same problem, back in their Second World War. That nutter Hitler had received his rightful end. Even Dumbledore had played his part in that war.

Dumbledore. The man was pure greatness. I still couldn't believe it. I was going to Hogwarts. Pretty soon, I would be free of the chains of this hospital bed, free to roam around and go to Diagon Alley, and Gringotts, the wizard bank, to the Leaky Cauldron. My father had told me of all these places after Dumbledore had left, and I found myself even more excited. I was ready to get out of this hospital and into Hogwarts.

My father came around later that day, telling me that he had gotten most of my school things, but he hadn't been sure if I wanted a toad or an owl, and of course, I would have to go to Ollivander's personally to get my wand. He was smiling, and he kept rustling my hair. I was glad to see my father this happy. The last week had been more hurtful to him then to me.

"Where's mom, dad?" I hadn't seen my mother since yesterday.

"She needed a little rest. She doesn't want to be too tired when she comes to see you off the day after."

Ah, yes. I would going to Platform 9 ¾ to get on the Hogwarts Express. My father had been babbling about the platform for the last two days. "Remember, son. If you're nervous, the barrier will know. You have to go through it with full-"

"Yes, dad, I know. You've told me several times already"

He smiled widely. "Yeah, son, I know. I'm just so excited. You're finally going to Hogwarts." It seemed to me that he was more excited about Hogwarts than I was. "All right, son, you must be tired. I'm going to get your release papers all finished up, and we will get you out of here tomorrow morning"

I smiled back at my dad. I was so grateful to him for everything that he had done for me, and I had done nothing but cause him grief. My smile faded. He must have noticed the look on my face.

"Son, we've been through this. It wasn't your fault. None of it was. There was no way this could have been avoided." He spoke with a degree of finality in his voice.

"All right, dad. I'll talk to you later."

"Sure thing, son," he said, and swept out of the room.

I rolled over, and attempted to get some sleep. I was still feeling a little dizzy, but the Healers had assured me that these were just after-affects of the attack. Healer Prewett had told me that I was probably going to feel these symptoms intensify a few days before a full moon, and then a few days after I would be completely back to normal, symptom free.

My sleep was troubled. I was walking down the steps of a winding castle turret, the cold stone unwelcome to my feet. I was silent as the night, and I knew my prey would never be able to hear me. I looked down at my strong hands, which had become hairy paws, with retractable claws, three inches long. I took long, deep breaths to calm myself, and dropped down on all fours. I had reached the bottom of the stone turret, where along a parapet, twenty meters away, was a man. Not even a man; he was still a young boy. He stood at the edge of the parapet, looking down. He then turned around to sit on the edge, taking his wand out at the same time. In his hand fluttered a piece of paper. I cared not for these distractions, for my main target was the boy, standing alone, not able to see, or hear me. I prepared to run. My powerful hind-legs were tensed in anticipation, every muscle in my body contracted to spring at the slightest indication. The boy stood once more, and that was when I struck. I jumped from out of the shadows, landing ten meters away. The boy saw me immediately and pointed his wand at me, the piece of paper flying out of his hand in the sudden wind. I stood, facing him, while his wand shook in fear. I could see the fear in his eyes. He didn't want to die. I was Death in this showdown. My whole body tensed up for the next jump. The boy was fast, with his bellow of "_IMPEDIMENTA!", _but I was much faster. The spell hit me in mid-air, hitting my shoulder and knocking me somewhat of course. I landed a few meters beyond him, but not before taking a swipe at the boys face as I passed. I got up on my hind-legs, and growled menacingly. The boys face was bleeding profusely, the red substance dripping onto his cloak. I stared into his face, and I could see that the fear was gone. Instead, I saw resignation. He raised his wand once more. He would not win against me. I took my time. We stood for nearly a minute before the boy struck again, this time with a cry of "_Stupefy!_", and I saw a flash of red, but my body reacted automatically. I was much too fast for him, and the flash of red passed beside me harmlessly. I felt the heat of the spell. Again, he yelled "_Stupefy"_, and again, and again, but every spell missed. Finally, the boy dropped his wand to the floor, his arms hanging limply from his sides. I looked at his eyes, which had turned dull and lifeless.

"Go ahead, kill me," the boy said. "I have no reason to live. Kill me. You have beaten me, beast. Go on." The words I understood, but I found no asking for mercy in them. I dropped to all fours again, and looking at the boys face for the last time, I jumped.

That was when I awoke, screaming.

"He has obviously suffered some sort of psychotic episode. Side-affects from the ailment, I would presume."

"My son is not psychotic!"

It was the next morning, and once again, my father and Healer Prewett were arguing.

"You know, Mr. Lupin, I would figure you would show more respect for the St. Mungos institution. After all, you have visited this hospital more than a dozen times due to work-related injuries."

"Please don't change the subject, Prewett. Why is my son having dreams as a werewolf?"

This was a half-question, half-shout. My father was obviously mad about something.

"Look, Mr. Lupin. Your son has been through a terrible ordeal. He is now suffering side-affects of his affliction. These dreams are no more than side-affects, Mr. Lupin that is all. They will have no permanent affect on his mental capacities."  
My father didn't know what to say to this.

"Your son, in our honest medical opinion, has been healed as much as we could. He is free to be released."  
I was lifted out of my bed by an orderly, and placed in a wheelchair. The orderly took his wand and muttered "Locomotor chair" and I was silently wheeled out of the room. My father walked beside me, mumbling about all the craziness at St. Mungos. "They didn't run the hospital like this in my day, no sir. Incompetent healers." I looked up at my dad.

"Really, dad, I'm all right. It was nothing but a dream."

My father looked back down at me, his face grave. "Son, whenever you have one of these dreams at school, I want you to send me an owl right away. Understood?"

I was confused, but I nodded. I had never seen my father so serious.

We were back on the ground floor, and I saw my mother in the reception area. She was crying again. A quick look at her face told me these were happy, but worried, tears. She ran up to me and gave me a hard hug, which really hurt.  
"Mom, your choking me!" I gasped.

"I should have never let you gone out that night! This is my entire fault!" she sobbed.

"Really, Martha, you won't do the boy any good if you choke him to death." And my father pulled her away from me, and the chair once again began its silent trek. We reached the glass partition from the street and the hospital. I turned around and looked at my 'home' for the last week. Healer Prewett was standing there, waving his hand. My father grimaced. He was waving goodbye and yelled, "Don't forget the potion!"

"I won't," I said.

My father decided that going back home would be such a nuisance, so he just booked us a room at the Leaky Cauldron. I was lying on the bed, the day that I was to leave, looking out the window as the room shook from the train passing by. My mother was out shopping for her Muggle items that were required at home, and my father was talking to the barkeep downstairs, apparently an old friend who he hadn't met for a long time. I was reading one of the books he had bought me: Transfiguration for Beginners. I watched in amazement as the illustration showed a man standing normally, then jump and turn into a large, black dog. I was disappointed to read that this skill was extremely difficult, and most school students would be incapable to learn it. I was reading about turning animals into objects when my father walked into the room.

"Well, I believe it is time to go get your wand, son." Excitement coursed through my body. _Finally, _I thought, _time to get that wand. _ This was going to be fun.  
I walked downstairs to the bar section of the Leaky Cauldron, where my father led me out the back. I watched in amazement as he tapped on sections of brick in a large brick wall in front of me. The wall suddenly split apart in front of me, leaving a large gaping hole which revealed a bustling street, full of vendors and shops, strange animals and even stranger people.

"Welcome, son, to Diagon Alley!" We set off down the street together, stopping to gaze at some of the things in the windows of shops. A broomstick lay on a pedestal in one window, boasting "The Catapult- The Fastest Broom in Production!" I gazed longingly at the broomstick, but my father stopped me. "Brooms are not allowed to first years, son. Sorry. But if you get me great grades, I might have an excellent welcome back present for you."  
My face lit up. We kept walking through the street. Street vendors kept offering us several items, but my father shrugged them off with a polite "No, thank you."

Finally, we reached Ollivander's, a small, dirty shop whose windows looked to be begging for a cleaning. We entered, and there was no on inside to greet us.

"Ah! Mr. Lupin! It has been a long time, has it not! 9 inch with the feather of a magical dove belonging to a Tibetan Priest, is it not? I had to climb so far to get that feather." We turned around suddenly, and up at the second floor railing stood an old wizard with graying hair. His whole body looked wizened, and his face suggested that he knew more than it looked.

"Mr. Ollivander, sir! It has been a while," said my father. "How has life been treating you?"

"Oh, it's the same old thing. I sell wands, and people use them. That's about it." He climbed down the stairs to greet us. "So, Master Lupin, what will it be? Wand maintenance today, or have you destroyed that beautiful wand I once sold you?"

"Mr. Ollivander, what do you take me for?" my father said, laughing. "No, I'm in here for my son today."

"Ah, Remus. I have heard so much about you from your father. Still snatching the sugar cookies from locked cupboards?" He laughed with my father.

"So, young Remus. Beginning school this year?" I nodded. "Well, I received a wand today, which might just be excellent for your purposes." He moved towards the back of his store.

"Well, I should be off then, Remus." My father turned and headed for the door.

"You're not staying?" I felt suddenly fearful.

"No, the wand choosing usually is done by the person alone. I won't be far. I'm just heading to meet Hagrid, I saw him outside. Come meet me out there when you are done." I didn't ask my father what Hagrid was, but I just nodded and turned to meet Mr. Ollivander again. As my father left, Mr. Ollivander walked up with a slim, red box in his hand. He handed it to me, and said "Open it, and give it a try." I did just that, and took out a beautiful birch wand. It was polished nicely, so much that it shone in the light. The color was a light brown, the color of caramel. He held the wand firmly in his hand, and Mr. Ollivander said "Give it a flick, why don't you." I did that, and a bouquet of roses sprouted out of the end of the wand. Mr. Ollivander grabbed them and put them in a pot of water that was sitting nearby. "Why don't you jam the handle on my desk?" I hit his desk as hard as I could with the handle, and gold sparks shot out of the end.

"Excellent!" cried Mr. Ollivander. "It looks like this wand has chosen you, Mr. Lupin."

I turned to pay him when a thought hit my head. "Mr. Ollivander, sir. You said that my father's wand had the feather of a dove in it."

"Yes," he replied curiously.

"And I've read that all wands are different, and so is the animal element that is used in them. What is the core element of my wand?"

Mr. Ollivander looked at me curiously for a few more seconds, and then said, "I used the single strand of hair from a werewolf."

My head began to do that buzzing again. I started to feel very dizzy again. I don't remember when I paid him for the wand; I don't remember him saying "Werewolf hair makes for a very, very powerful wand. Temperamental, yes, but incredibly powerful; and I don't remember walking out of the shop somewhat dizzily.

The next thing I did remember was walking out of the shop, stumbling around as if I had too much butterbeer, and hitting something and falling down. I looked up to see a giant form. It was so big, it seemed to be blocking out the very sun.

"What's the matter, young'un?" The giant form was speaking. After blinking a few times, I managed to make out a large face, with wild, scraggly hair and a bushy beard that looked like it could nest birds. The man was as wide as I was tall, and looked as though he could take on a mountain troll by himself.

"Oh, Remus, I see you've met Hagrid!" My father came galloping out of nowhere to lift me off the ground. I looked up again. The giant man was smiling widely, and even though he looked fierce and wild, I didn't feel too scared in his presence.

"Joinin' Hogwarts, are ya? That's jus' great," he said in his deep, kindly voice.

"Remus, this is Hagrid. He is the Gamekeeper at Hogwarts, so if you're ever caught outside after dark, you'll answer to him."  
I looked up at Hagrid again. I expected his face to become stern, but he was still smiling.

"I remember, Roman, when I had to chase you across the countryside just because you and that friend of yours had taken to night-time Quidditch!" Hagrid and my father laughed uproariously. _My father, _I thought, _the trouble-maker?_ What an interesting bit of information.

"Righ' then," said Hagrid. "I best be off. Pickin' up summat special for Hogwarts this year."

And he lumbered off, people giving him considerable room to walk through the crowd.

My father looked at his watch. "Oh, my," he yelped, "is that the time!? We have to be going now!" We ran back to the room, where my mother was dropping all of her things on the floor, and my father grabbed her arm while I quickly packed up my trunks. "Locomotor trunks!" he bellowed, and out the room and down the stairs they went.

He undid the magic as soon as we hit the bottom floor of the Leaky Cauldron. A taxi was waiting for us somehow, and we made it to the train station at 10:45 AM.

My father leapt out of the car, dragging my mother and my trunks behind. I struggled to keep up. By the time we got the trunks loaded on to a trolley and we made it to Platform 9 ¾, it was 10:56.

"All right, son, remember-

"I know, I know, dad! I'm going!"  
I grabbed the trolley away from him. I stopped, and looked around at my parents.

"Son, you have no idea how proud I am at this moment. If I died now, I would die happy."

"Roman!" my mother scolded. She looked at me, and for once, she wasn't crying. I saw happiness in her eyes, and in her face, and she bent down to give me a hug. "I will see you this Christmas, and if not, then next summer. I promise."

I tried hard to put on a brave face for my parents, and tried not to cry. I succeeded but barely. Without any words, I waved at them weakly, then gripped the trolley and began to run. The trolley was rattling as I increased the speed at which I was about to hit the wall.  
_What if it goes wrong?_ I thought. I could just envision myself crumpling against the brick pillar, as all the Muggles stopped to laugh at me. But before I could see that embarrassing moment any further, the wall rushed up to meet me, and I rushed right through it. I had done it. I was standing on Platform 9 ¾.

The platform was bustling with activity, with a couple of vendors trying to sell me the _Daily Prophet_ or a glass of pumpkin juice. I moved away from them, and towards the train. A few feet from me, I heard a woman scolding a small, fat boy who kept looking around nervously. "Honestly, Peter, if I weren't here to take care of you, you would lose yourself in your own house." The boy looked embarrassed.

I heard footsteps behind me, and saw that my father had come to help me onto the train. The train itself was magnificent, with brilliant red on top of black, steam coming out of every part of the train.

"All right, son, here is your trunk," he said, handing it to me. I took it and shoved it to the side. He stood there with the empty trolley. "Remember son. Your mother and I love you, and we will always love you. Make us proud, son." I smiled back at him and waved. I walked into the train as my father waved goodbye. Taking my trunk, I began to walk down the narrow corridor of the train. Several compartments were completely full, and I could see children playing cards, building houses with them. I watched with interest as a boy placed a single card atop a house that was already several flights tall. As soon as the last card touched the top, the house exploded with such force that it blackened the faces of the boys who had leaned in with anticipation. There was a moment's silence, and then all the boys began to laugh uproariously. I smiled, and continued to walk. After a few minutes, near the end of the train, I found a near full compartment, with two boys sitting inside already. I knocked on the glass, and the door magically opened. I walked in with my trunk and looked tentatively at the boys, who were sitting near the window.

"May I sit here? Everywhere else is full." Both of the boys looked up. Both were about the same height. One had dark, thick hair that stuck up from the back, and round glasses placed on his nose. The other boy had shoulder-length black hair, dark eyes and what seemed like a permanent smile.

The boy with the glasses spoke first after an agonizing second. "Sure, mate. Set your trunk above the seats." I did just that, and sat down. Extending my hand forward, I introduced myself.

"I'm Remus John Lupin. I'm a first year. How about you guys?" The boy with the long hair grabbed my hand and shook it firmly.

"I'm Sirius Black," he said.

"And my name is James Potter. We're both first years too." He smiled. "Nervous?"

"Kind of, yes," I said. "First time I've ever been in a place with so many wizards and witches. I'm pretty much in a Muggle community."

"Is that so?" asked Sirius. "Well, mate, you have nothing to be worried or nervous about. Everyone here at Hogwarts starts the exact same level. Or at least that's what other people told me. My parents told me that I would have to wrestle a chimera or something."

Fear struck me again. A chimera?? How was I supposed to wrestle fire-breathing monster?

"You don't have to wrestle a chimera, Sirius," said James. "I'm pretty sure about that. If we did, then Hogwarts wouldn't have a single student making it past the entrance. We'd all be dead wrestling chimeras!" We all had a laugh at that.

There was a lurch in movement, signaling that the train had begun its journey towards Hogwarts. "Here we go," said Sirius.

There was a flash of movement at the door, and I saw that same small, fat boy that had been reprimanded by his mother on the platform. The door opened to let him in, and he wobbled in uneasily, as if unsure of his own footing.

"Hi, guys," he smiled. "Everywhere else is full; would I be able to share the compartment with you?" He was sweating profusely from carrying his trunk, and when he smiled, his teeth stuck out.

I looked up at the boy. He seemed unsure if we were going to say 'yes' or 'no', and almost got ready to turn around and leave when I said, "Sure, why not. Take a seat, Peter."

He gratefully lifted his trunk and placed it in the overhead, then collapsed tiredly to the seat. "How did you know my name?"

"I heard your mother talking to you on the platform."

Peter flushed, embarrassed. "My mother thinks I'm still a small child, that I can't take care of myself."

"Say, Peter," said Sirius, grinning, "is that your shirt sticking out of your zipper?"

Peter flushed again, pulling off the paper while we all had a good laugh. Even Peter started to laugh, and soon we were playing games. The card game that I had seen the boys playing was called Exploding Snap, but I wasn't too eager to join in. I remembered those soot-filled faces. Soon the compartment was full of loud and bright explosions, while I opened my trunk and began to read a book.

The lunch lady pulled up and offered us something off the trolley. Between the three of us (Peter had forgotten his coin purse at home), we took about half the food on the trolley. She rolled off, looking happy, leaving us with a roomful of candy and food. I grabbed a Chocolate Frog, tore off the top of the package and watched as my frog attempted to jump away. I attempted to grab him in mid-air, but James was much faster, almost blindingly fast. His hand darted up, grabbed the frog and dropped it in my hand, grinning.

"You have great reflexes, James," I marveled.

"Yeah, my parents tell me that when I dodge things that they throw at me," he said, laughing. We all howled with laughter.

The train was speeding through the night, and it began to rain, and a stern looking fifth year told us to get ready, as the castle would only be an hour away. He looked disapprovingly at the candy wrappers littered all over the floor and swept away with a flash of his cloak and prefects badge.

"Bunch of prats, those prefects are. Think they are God's gift to schools," said Sirius.

James laughed, but I was confused. "But I thought the Prefects were in positions of power?"

"Yeah, they are, but they're the bane to pranksters like Sirius and me," explained James. "I prefer to maraud the night, rather than sleep like the rest of the world," laughed Sirius.

Peter seemed to be hanging on their every word, but I laughed with the other two. "Midnight marauders, you two are."

The night had soon turned pitch-black, and the train began to slow. We had all changed into school robes, and Peter once again flushed with embarrassment when he realized that he had forgotten his owl. When we stepped off the train, I saw the massive form of Hagrid, who seemed to be blocking all the light. James and Sirius stared up at him with a mixture of fear and amazement.

"Firs' years! Firs' years, over here! Come on, come on, I'm starvin'! I don' wanna miss the feast again this year!" he bellowed.

"Hello Hagrid," I said timidly.

He looked down in surprise. "Remus! Welcome, boy, good ter' see ya!"

James and Sirius were surprised that I knew this giant of a man on a first name basis.

"All firs' years, follow me! Second years, follow the prefects ter' the carriages!" And he was off, walking towards a giant lake, whose black depths were impossibly to see through. At the edge of the lake, I saw a collection of small boats, where Hagrid slowly got into one, and said, "Two ter' a boat, and hurry up!" We all piled in, and I sat with Sirius, while James sat with Peter. Straight ahead, across the lake on a rocky plateau sat the magnificent castle. I looked in awe at its high turrets, its many lights, the tallest tower and the shortest greenhouse. It was amazing. With a shout from Hagrid, "FORWARD!", the boats began to move across the water by themselves. By the time we made it halfway, it began to rain, and then the rain began to pound the tiny boats. We grabbed on both ends of the boat, and held on for dear life. Sirius was laughing in delight; he obviously was having the time of his life. Our boat hit a large wave, and the boat jumped a few feet in the air before hitting the water with a tremendous crash. I was thrown off balance, and after swaying on my feet, fell overboard.

All my senses were permeated with one thing – _water. _I was trying to swim, but I was too tired, and my boots were too heavy. In the immersive darkness of the water, I saw a light. It was just a simple light, but it was oddly hypnotic. I started towards it, sinking to the bottom. I had nearly reached the light when I felt a huge force grab me around the midsection and throw me out of the water. I flew thirty feet in the air before landing in the boat with Sirius again, soaking wet and sputtering for breath. "Are you all right?" asked Sirius? He looked me over.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I looked back at the lake, just in time to see a giant tentacle disappear beneath the dark surface.

No one else seemed to have noticed a thing. They were too busy trying to hold on for dear life when the rain and the wind stopped suddenly. _What a day, _I thought. _Am I ever going to stop 'almost dying' like that?_

We were approaching the other end of the lake when Hagrid jumped out of the boat and waded out to shore. He beckoned to the boats which pulled themselves ashore, and we dismounted off.

"That was fun!" exclaimed Peter. I didn't want to tell them about my fall into the water. Apparently, neither did Sirius. He kept silent as we walked to the gates of the mighty castle. James was looking all over the place, his head jumping from side to side as we walked through the wet grass. When we approached the gate, Hagrid raised one massive fist and knocked three times on the door. I could hear several locks snapping out of place, large metal pieces moving out of their places. After what seemed like an eternity, the massive wooden doors of Hogwarts opened to reveal the wonders inside. Hagrid beckoned for us to follow him. We did, into a stone corridor dimly lit by torches in the hands of suits of armor. I was looking at everything, taking it all in. I was going to have so much to write about it in my first letter home. I looked up and saw an owl rush by, narrowly dodging a chandelier swaying from the ceiling. To my right, a silvery white form appeared through the wall and yawned. _A ghost!_ I thought. He looked at us briefly, and smiled. "Welcome to Hogwarts, children!" he boomed. His voice seemed magnified through some ethereal ability. "I assume these are first years, Hagrid? I can tell by the way some are petrified." He chortled.

"Thas' right, Nick. If you'll excuse us, were in a bit of a hurry, were already a tad bit late for the feast."

"Ah, the feast. I should be heading up there myself. Goodbye, Hagrid, and, good luck, children." Grabbing his hair with his translucent hand, he pulled his hair in what I assumed was a form of salute. Imagine our surprise and shock when he pulled his head nearly off. I could see that it was attached by nothing more than a small bit of skin and muscle. I looked around. Peter looked as though he was about to vomit, but James and Sirius both were staring up in delight. He floated away while Hagrid chuckled with laughter.

"That Nick. He always likes his little jokes. All right, firs' years, follow me."

Hagrid led us up more steps until we reached two grand wooden doors. There was a knocker on the doors, and Hagrid went up and used it three times.

He waited several seconds. "Well, I'll be off then. Have a good year, kids. I will see you around the grounds of course, and try ter stay out of trouble. See you in the hall!" he said quickly, and rushed out the side doors. We waited several minutes before another room to the side opened, and a very severe looking woman stepped out. Dressed completely in a dark green cloak and matching hat, she stopped and turned to the first years.

"Welcome to Hogwarts, first years." Her voice was as severe as her voice, but I couldn't help but notice a touch of kindness to it. "In a few minutes, you will all be sorted into your individual houses. There are four houses, Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw. These four houses will become home to each and everyone of you. Their victories will be your victories, and their sadness will be your grief. When we enter the Great Hall, you will all be sorted, and then you will go and sit with your house. The Prefects will later explain to you the rules and regulations of living inside the dormitories, and a code of conduct you must all abide by. School rules can be found posted on several boards all over school grounds. I will be back in a few minutes, to check if they are ready for you." She left through the same side door, and left the first years to their silence. I didn't say a word, and I didn't even dare breathe very loudly. It had become very quiet, and no one spoke, for fear of breaking the silence.

After those few agonizing minutes, the severe professor once again returned.

"We are ready for you now." And with a tap of her wand, the giant doors to the Great Hall opened.

TO BE CONTINUED


End file.
